The Truth Behind the Tragedy
by twofifteen
Summary: "Here she was, standing outside of a dead man's front door, willing herself to leave, to pull herself together. But she couldn't." Yet another exploration of Booth's death after Wannabe in the Weeds, AU one-shot (based around Season 3, Episodes 14 & 15).


Okay, so I know the subject of Booth's "death" in season 4 has been explored quite a bit. But the fact that there were 2 weeks between Booth's death and his funeral and Brennan never questioned this or went searching for answers or ever had a need to process it at all (at least that we saw) has always bugged me. So this is my take on an alternate universe, what could have happened.

Disclaimer: I do not own the TV show Bones or any of its characters.

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 **The Truth Behind the Tragedy**

3 days. It took 3 days for her to process her new world. This change, this alter, this shift was undeniably evil. She had lived in a state of shock for 3 days, unable to compartmentalize; therefore, just ignoring the change altogether. She had worked and excelled at identifying the bones in limbo, channeling all of her focus into her work. But there were no new cases. There would be no new cases. The tie between the FBI and the Jeffersonian was gone. Booth was gone.

And yet, here she was, standing outside of a dead man's front door, willing herself to leave, to pull herself together. But she couldn't. And she hated that she couldn't. She hated that she had woken up crying and hadn't been able to stop. That she had called in sick to work for the first time in 7 years, just to wallow in her sadness.

At this thought, she sighed. She had already fallen this far from her usual state of composure and rationality. What was one day? One day of sadness, she could allow herself that. All for a man who drove her crazy with his inane ideas about life and the world, a man who, for as often as she hated (and trust her, sometimes she truly did)- she also loved. A man who promised he'd never leave. With that, she took out her spare key (for emergencies only), and crossed the threshold.

She closed the door quietly behind her, what she was afraid to disturb she wasn't sure. But suddenly, she was surrounded by him. _The sense of smell has the strongest association to memory_ , she reminded herself as the tears began flowing freely. She felt ridiculous, but ventured further into his apartment, his home, yearning for something to hold onto; just a piece of him. She made her way through every room, making sure to never disturb anything, but touching everything; remembering him through the photographs, the hockey trophies, the collection of Foreigner CDs, even his favorite sweatshirt that was still draped over his chair, waiting. This, she decided, this she would take. Who would miss an old sweatshirt anyway? She put it on, encompassing herself in his warmth. This was her piece of him. She wiped her tears with the sleeves that were much too long on her arms. It was preposterous, she knew, a child-like thought really, but she felt stronger wearing his sweatshirt- like he was standing beside her, protecting her once more in his alpha-male way.

She shook her head, making her way back towards the front door. The handle began to turn before she even reached out. She could swear she heard a set of keys fall on the other side of the door, and a whispered curse that almost sounded like…. But that was impossible. She needed to go, get home, and compartmentalize before she lost her grip on reality any further. She reached for the door once more, but it was open and he was standing there. Booth was standing there, wearing a tired and yet slightly amused look on his face.

"Bones?"

The tears filled her eyes once more. "What are you doing here?" he asked and, noticing hear tears, "Bones what's wrong?"

She couldn't stop the tears from falling now. Only this time, she was embraced in a hug. And it was him, the smell, the touch, it was all him. He consoled her until she pulled away, slowly, slightly fearing he'd disappear again.

"You died. You were dead. And now…," she looked up at him, searching for answers.

He looked down at her, expressing confusion at her statement. "No. Bones, it's all a setup. You were supposed to know. I don't know who screwed that up but I'll kick their asses, you know I will. Bones," he tilted her chin so she would meet his eyes, "I could never leave you."

She stepped away from, suddenly conscious of her proximity to her partner, and he quickly followed suit, with a small chuckle, "trying to rob me, are ya Bones?"

She looked down, embarrassed. "No, I… I just…." she sighed.

"It's fine Bones, don't worry about it," Booth said with a smile. "It looks better on you anyway."

"Thanks Booth," she mumbled, "have a goodnight." At that she made her way toward the front door.

But Booth stopped her, "It's late. Stay- Parker's bed's all made-up."

She considered this for a moment before agreeing with a nod of her head. "Thank you," she said as he made his way towards his own bedroom door.

"Booth?" she whispered.

He turned back towards her, "I promise I'll still be here when you get up. You can't get rid of me that easy Bones."

She smiled, turning towards the younger Booth's room. This reality would take no time to compartmentalize. This reality was right.

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A/N: And yes, if you noticed, I did steal the idea of 3 days from later on (season 6 I believe?). But let's just call it parallelism, or foreshadowing, I dunno. Thanks for reading.


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